Would You Like Some Cheese with That Whine, Mr. Lileks?
Great Merciful Ashurbanipal on toast points. James Lileks, Mister Whiny Right-Wing Entitlement Boy, is having a hissy fit because his home perch and sugar tit, the Minneapolis StarTribune, is taking him off the right-wing blowhard beat and forcing him to — quel horreur — Do. Actual. Journalism, something he readily admits he doesn't do, has never done, and probably can't do.
How upset is he over this? Upset enough to get his good buddy and fellow wingnut-welfare recipient Hugh Hewitt to sic their combined forces of letter-writing and phone-dialing Flying Monkeys onto the Strib's unsuspecting management.
Gee, James. A rational adult would have, y'know, gone through the union instead. Oh, that's right — you're a wingnut, so unions are evil. So instead you're going to have oodles of people who never read the Strib call up to threaten to cancel their non-existent subscriptions. Wow, what a stroke of genius!
I'd feel a lot sorrier for Jimmy-Poo if he was an actual beat reporter who'd lost a job, like the few dozen folks at the Strib who've been told their services are no longer required; unlike Jimmy-Poo, they weren't given the option of being reassigned to another job within the paper. But then, the right-wingers who rail the loudest and longest against lazy selfish union employees are precisely the ones with the senses of self-entitlement bigger than the frickin' planet Saturn; they feel that they deserve more than actual twenty-year career beat reporters, because — well, just because, man!
Do try the white cheddar with the zinfandel, James. And brush up your CV. I understand Target is hiring stockers.